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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150841">There's No Business Like Show Business</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfHerMind/pseuds/OutOfHerMind'>OutOfHerMind</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warrior Nun (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Ava thinks she's hot, Bachelor AU, Bea is as gay as they come, Beatrice hates Ava's guts, Crack, F/F, Fluff, Reality TV, bi ava, eventually, slowburn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:35:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,514</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfHerMind/pseuds/OutOfHerMind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ava Silva is the worst actress this country has ever seen. She's also the hottest new contestant on The Bachelor in the most dramatic season yet! Murder attempts, love triangles, an infamous drug lords, this season is sure to keep you on your toes!<br/>Accept most of the exciting bits are never on camera, much to Francesco Duretti's great annoyance.<br/>----<br/>Ava Silva just pulled the most dangerous stunt of her life and now has to try to not get murdered. She accidentally drags poor production assistant Beatrice into the dangerous world of crime as they try to figure out a way to keep Ava not dead while also keeping the show going.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>J.C./Ava Silva, Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Action!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I watched two episodes of the bachelorette last night and was like "Thanks! I hate it!" so I decided to have some fun and make it gay. And dangerous. Be gay do crime.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ava didn’t know why she was here. Well, she knew what she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be here for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What a load of shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She signed up as a joke, wanting to piss off her employer more than anything, and was genuinely shocked when she got through the vetting session. Who wants to watch an orphaned, struggling actress make a fool of herself on reality tv? And who would want to see said individual brutally murdered afterwards for stepping out of line? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently a lot of people wanted to see that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing new there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She let out a deep breath as the limo brought her closer to the love of her life. And closer to her escaping this stupid sequin dress and painful heels. She was definitely more excited for the latter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright Miss Silva, here we are.” The driver turned to her with a smile, his kind voice soothing some of her nerves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good luck out there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava gave him a genuine smile, something she knows she won’t do often here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Vincent, I appreciated the company.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a tip of his cap, the screen separating them began to climb and the limo door opened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anytime Miss.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With another deep breath, Ava stepped out of the ridiculously expensive limo and onto the ridiculously expensive lawn to witness a ridiculously handsome man in a ridiculously expensive suit shoot her a ridiculously charming smile. Ridiculous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More ridiculous than anything was the fact that Ava felt her stomach swoop, not with dread, nor with horror, but with excitement. JC, while probably faker than a barbie doll, was super hot and Ava could </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>work with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She put on her most charming mask and confidently strutted over to the dark and handsome man before her. He had perfectly white teeth, a dimpled smile and tousled hair, completely different from the bearded, blue eyed, white dude that was on every other season of the bachelor. Her dread about the week, while still very much there, dipped when she embraced JC and greeted him with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her handler, Cecilia Superion, told her to greet him with a simple smile and introduction, nothing over the top and nothing cheesy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a gorgeous woman with nice tits, he doesn’t need anything else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thanks lady, you’re a real treat to be around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m Ava Silva and I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>cheesed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to meet you!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>Superion’s displeasure burning a hole into the back of her head, but couldn’t find it in herself to care as JC let out a quiet huff of laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I can say without a shadow of a doubt that it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>gouda </span>
  </em>
  <span>to meet you too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was low, and was that an accent? Oh yeah, Ava could get used to this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave him an impressed once over before breaking out into a wide grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, very good! I can see another lover of puns before me.” She laughed as he did a little bow, which she responded with a quick curtsy. Thank god for her stage gig in the almost-as-good-as-the-Globe production of King Lear. The heels were killer, but not as killer as the reviews that called her a travesty at least three times. Or was it four? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love puns almost as much as I hate that dress.” His smile dropped and he paled as  he realized what he just said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This guy really isn’t a typical Bachelor,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ava thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He seems real and very out of practice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She adored real people, finding them more reliable than the 2D ones. Those ones always tend to let her down at the end of the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a beat of silence that had JC sweating bullets, Ava let out an unlady-like cackle, throwing her head back as she saw the look on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know right? When they said I had to put this on it made me want to jump in front of the limo.” She did a little twirl for the man, goofily strutting in her disco ball outfit as he clutched his chest in relief. “I feel like I’m going to seriously blind someone in this thing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ava holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>you scared me!” He laughed, breathless from his mess-up but Ava knew he was thrilled to see a woman who didn’t mind a bit of goofing off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He returned to his suave, confident self before seriously sticking out his hand. “I think we are going to have a lot of fun together. Let’s agree to cause as much trouble as possible.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava stopped strutting to fix on her game face before vigorously shaking JC’s hand. “Agreed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beatrice was going to die. She was hoping to at least make it to eighty, perhaps dying in her sleep peacefully, maybe suffering from a heart attack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What she didn’t want to do was die at twenty two years old because a contestant on the ridiculous reality tv show she worked on bludgeoned her in the head with a chair, which sent her careening into the pool, where she promptly drowned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, she would’ve, if not for said contestant pulling her out and then almost drowning herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>are you doing?” Beatrice demanded as she made her way to the shallow end, dragging a slight woman with an incredibly heavy dress with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought--” She spat out some water and heaved in a great gasp of air before continuing on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were going to kill me!” With that admission, Beatrice dumped the shorter woman into the water, not bothering to help her all the way out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell--</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kill you?!” Beatrice fumed as she watched the sputtering woman regain her bearings, angry that her first day of the season ended with this tomfoolery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why in the every loving </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>would anybody want to kill a random contestant on an overly dramatized reality dating show?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The younger woman opened her mouth to respond, vehement argument on her tongue before she stopped. Took a deep breath. And stuck out her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No reason! Hi, I’m Ava Silva. I’m twenty-three years old, an actress, and pleased to make your acquaintance. Who might you be?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a second thought, Beatrice shoved Ava Silva, causing her to topple over with a splash, before storming out of the pool in all her squelching glory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She heard a peal of laughter behind her as Ava made her way to dry land. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was nice to meet you too!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice was going to murder her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava sat on the edge of her bed, hair still wet from her impromptu swim. That woman totally hated her, but Ava couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was she doing, wearing all black and prowling around the building like a thief in the night? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava had been freeing herself from those evil heels when she saw the darkly clad figure lurk outside her window, hand reaching for their hip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She immediately ducked for cover, fearing the worst. He’d done it. He’d finally had enough of her and was going to kill her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why </span>
  </em>
  <span>did she risk it all to come on this stupid show?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So she’d decided right then and there that she wasn’t going to be intimidated by a man too cowardly to come kill her himself. So she snuck out through the window, cursing her heavy dress as she gripped a pool chair to attack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her stupid glittery clothes gave her away, reflecting off the water and drawing her attacker’s eyes. They turned just as she swung, hitting them squarely in the face before Ava could rescind her strike. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked on in horror as the most beautiful woman she had ever seen toppled into the water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now she sat in her underwear, wrapped in a towel and shaking as she remembered her day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had met the other contestants after JC, and found them to be an interesting assortment. Most of them ignored her, but a few caught her eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Camila, an adorable and bubbly woman, had immediately grabbed her arm and dragged her over to a group of women that sat in the corner, sipping champagne and looking intimidating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lilith was tall and imposing, head lifted high as she looked down on everyone, literally and figuratively. She had given Ava one look and told her she looked like an epilepsy attack waiting to happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where Lilith was elegant and poised, Lou was relaxed and chill, offering Ava a fist-bump and friendly smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mary was the only one in the room in a suit, and damn did she rock it or </span>
  <em>
    <span>what. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She was too busy with her whiskey and a book about shotguns to pay Ava any attention, but she knew that they were going to be fast friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Teresa was the odd one out, obviously more the typical contestant with her tight dress and catty attitude, but Ava wasn’t stupid. She was removing herself from the drama by sticking with these outcasts, studying the room with intelligent eyes as she made benign comments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last person she met was Crimson. After talking with the group for a while, Ava decided to go get her own drink, needing something to get through the night. Talking to Lilith was like pulling teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you like to do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pause. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Start to pry at said tooth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like, do you have any hobbies?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pause.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Begin to yank at that bad boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have any movies you enjoy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuck in there, wasn’t it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now Ava was heaving with all her might, with little to no give. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Favorite author?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lovecraft.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, the tooth was finally out and Ava’s arms were too sore to pull another. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she approached the bar, she was surprised to see Vincent there, mixing drinks and handing out smiles like candy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Silva, what a pleasure it is to see you again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt herself relax in his presence, happy smile working its way onto her face as she grabbed the drink offered to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you too Vincent. Though, I’m surprised you're here… Aren’t you the driver?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vincent became serious, brows dipping as he set down the drink he was pouring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will find, Miss Silva, that I am a great many things. I can be friend or foe, whichever you prefer. Every job, at its core is the same, and I find that I have the ability to fit seamlessly into the cracks of society, because I have that same quality all important things share.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava leaned in, interest piqued as she regarded the strange man before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What quality is that?” She asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked her square in the eye and she was startled by the intensity there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was gone in a moment as he slid the drink to the woman who sidled up to Ava mere moments ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A happy countenance and a friendly smile.” He offered the latter to Ava, before helping other women down the bar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman next to her downed the glass in one go before turning to Ava with a honey coated smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, I’m Sinnead Crimson. I’m twenty six years old, a debt collector, and pleased to make your acquaintance. Who might you be?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was with everybody here having incredibly attractive accents? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava took a sip of her own drink before turning to the Irish woman with a hand outstretched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ava Silva. It’s nice to meet you too.” She simply offered, testing the waters. This woman obviously had an angle and was unashamed to hide it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring her outstretched hand, Crimson cut right to the chase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Those girls you were hanging out with? You should probably avoid them. They’re misfits and will just bring you down.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, thanks for proving my point.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava let out a small chuckle as she turned to watch her new companions share a comfortable silence. Minus Camila, of course, who was chatting Lilith’s ear off. The taller woman didn’t seem to mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She faced Crimson yet again, wondering what mask to wear. Should she mock the girls and earn a valuable asset or mock Crimson and earn the ire of a woman looking for trouble. She decided neither. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They are different, yes, but I find that to be quite intriguing. JC seems to be the guy to like interesting women, not your friends over there who spent ten minutes comparing Prada bags.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crimson turned a slight shade of crimson at the slight, ready to declare war on the young woman before her. She was surprised to find no ill will in Ava’s eyes, though. Just a casual observation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” She started, unsure where to go with her plot. “I guess we shall see.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I lifted her glass toward Crimson’s retreating figure, a smile on her lips. “That we shall.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She jumped in surprise as she felt an arm loop with hers, settling as she realized that it was just harmless Camila. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was talking to that skanky bitch?” Camila asked politely, a serene smile on her face as she watched Crimson sink into the couch and launch into a story about beating up some sad debtor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That couldn’t go over very well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Camila, you are quite something.” Ava chuckled as the younger woman led her back to the corner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been told that I have a surprising skill set.” She giggled, intriguing Ava with her omittance of further details. She could see potential in a friend like Cam. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stopped short and spun Camila to face her, eyes serious as she offered ally ship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think we are going to have a lot of fun together. Let’s agree to cause as much trouble as possible.” Ava stated, hands on her shoulders as she let a sly grin slip onto her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Camila broke into a wide smile and nodded enthusiastically. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Title of Your Sex Tape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Beatrice hates Ava's guts and Ava is trying not to get murdered</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Beatrice is wet.<br/>Not like that you pervs<br/>For shame</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I am sopping wet and filled with rage.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Title of your sex tape.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice shot Randall her dirtiest glares, causing him to hang his head in shame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I stress-binged the first two seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Couldn’t help myself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice grumbled some choice words before marching over to Shannon Masters, slamming her radio on the table to get her attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ava Silva is a menace and I want her voted out.” She demanded, voice cool as Shannon did nothing to acknowledge her presence but wave over a crewmate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get Beatrice a new radio, please.” The crewmate disappeared as Shannon continued to edit film on her computer, seeking out good snippets for the show. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was making Beatrice wait, probably to get her to calm down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could do that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could be patient.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or maybe she couldn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God dammit Shannon! Did you hear anything I said?” She threw her hands up in exasperation as Shannon continued to type away, ignoring her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She continued to silently fume, dripping onto the carpet as Randall hid his giggles behind his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Shannon turned to Beatrice with a shit eating grin, dropping her chin onto her hand as she studied the flustered girl before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beatrice I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this angry. It’s cute.” She teased, watching as Beatrice turned a deep shade of red at her lack of decorum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not cute. Besides, I’m allowed to be angry! I was just hit with a pool chair and almost drowned!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That got Shannon’s attention. She shot up, suddenly worried as she noticed the red welt on the side of her coworkers head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what? Beatrice, did a contestant assault you?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, </span>
  </em>
  <span>yes! Ava Silva just fucking attacked me!” Beatrice shouted, angry somehow increasing tenfold. “I was walking the perimeter and she just. Hit me with a chair! And then tried to save me and ended up almost drowning </span>
  <em>
    <span>herself </span>
  </em>
  <span>and acted like nothing happened! It was ridiculous!” She finished, chest heaving as she paced about the small break room. The squelching sound of Beatrice’s steps would’ve been funny if not for the fact that she had just been attacked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shannon stood swiftly and grabbed the younger woman's shoulders, forcing her to stop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Beatrice, shhh calm down. I’ll go have a talk with Miss Silva right now and set better boundaries. And get you the apology you so rightly deserve.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice, slightly cowed by the older woman’s gentleness, just gave a small nod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, all good? Good. Go get some rest and I’ll update you in the morning. Ok?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A nod was given and then she was off, eager to take a cold shower and wash off her disturbing use of anger. She was usually so calm and collected, keeping all the angry inside so she wouldn’t cause a scene. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something about getting manhandled by a girl that looked fifteen and was half her size that got a girl furious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After her shower, she finally slept, dreams flitting past her eyes as the day’s events drifted off into memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Silva? Are you awake?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The gentle knock at her door startled her awake, leaving her disoriented. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hated being a light sleeper, but it has saved her life on numerous occasions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coming!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She quickly slipped on a robe before opening the door to admit a woman she had never seen before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, she was aware that she was unarmed and her mind was clouded by sleep, causing her to tense up in fear. Was this woman an assassin? There was no way to tell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just keep it cool Ava, act natural and strike if you need to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, can I help you?” She asked, an innocent mask slipped over her face as she gazed at the woman before her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m Shannon Masters. May I come in?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfu--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, sure, no problem.” Ava allowed Shannon in with the sweep of her arm, scanning her person for any obvious weapons. She couldn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Ava started as the woman scanned her room with a critical eye. “What brings you to my room at,” A quick look at the clock and she was back. “Two am?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You attacked one of my coworkers.” She stated. Her militaristic stance did nothing to dissuade Ava’s fear, but the fact that she referenced the girl she bludgeoned into the pool did wonders for her nervous system. She knew Shannon was no foe due to the fact that she didn’t let Ava drown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava swallowed the guilt that crept up her throat, drowning any weakness. On the outside, though, she was ripped apart with shame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. That.” Ava took a shuddering breath as she dipped her head, shoulders slumping as she sat on the edge of the bed. The look of utter defeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Shannon studied the obviously guilt ridden girl with a curious tip of her head. Beatrice’s account made it seem like Ava was an eager, flighty woman with no shame. “That.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was a completely different woman. As Ava’s eyes met her own she saw the glisten of tears and dismissed any insincerity, sighing as she joined Ava on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to tell me why you attacked Beatrice? I need to know if your a risk to the rest of the cast and crew.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Ava jumped at the opportunity to clear her name, she internally pondered on the name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Beatrice, huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl. That I almost killed. Cool. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I swear to God I’m not! I was just--” She dropped her head again as shame crept onto face like a plague. “Scared.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shannon’s brows furrowed further as she took in Ava’s reaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why were you scared, Ava?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was abused. As a kid.” She felt real sadness creep into her heart as she told the truth. She hadn’t talked about this in a while, and it still hurt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Until I was nineteen, I was stuck in an orphanage in Spain. Saint Michaels. The nuns were cruel and mean, especially Sister Frances. My mother died in a car accident while we were on vacation, and since we were Catholic and had no other family I was sent there. They abused me physically and emotionally, and I lived in constant fear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shannon’s hand began to rub circles in her back as Ava told her history. It was always tricky to play this part without sounding too rehearsed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After I aged out, I lived on the streets until an uncle found me. He had been looking for a while. He took me to America where I began to act and blend in with normal society. I’m still very skittish and seeing--Beatrice was it?--seeing Beatrice lurking outside it reminded me of some of the workers in the orphanage that would push me around for shits and giggles.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wiped away the tears as Shannon tugged her in for a hug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that happened to you. Be sure to use it in the ITM interviews.” Shannon joked, squeezing the young woman’s shoulders as she let out a wet laugh. “I’ll make sure the crew knows not to lurk outside your room at night, ok?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava nodded before walking Shannon to the door, eyes red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please tell Beatrice I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause her harm.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nice voice crack Silva. It’s a good touch. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why thank you, me! I try my best.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She missed Shannon’s parting comments and soon enough she was on her way, leaving Ava all on her lonesome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that was exhausting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She threw herself back onto her plush bed and was out in minutes, all traces of tears gone as she drifted into a fitful rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Michael’s call went ignored as Jillian Salvius watched the television with mouth agape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mommy where is my--” Michael stopped short as he saw his mother’s tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sob that ripped its way out of her throat was animalistic and raw, sending Michael further into fear as he witnessed his mother collapse, hands clutching the remote like a lifeline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom, what’s going on…” He trailed off as he saw the national “gossip” news, as his mother liked to call it, go through the list of contestants that were to participate in the upcoming Bachelor season. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was just a baby when she disappeared, but her pictures are strewn about the house like shrines to a girl he never remembered meeting. In person, that is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Ava Silva, an up and coming actress from New York, seems to be a favorite from viewers! Seeing how her Instagram gained thousands of followers, only a couple days after the leak, she’s going to be a fan favorite.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He used to sneak into the tv room every night, just to watch family videos of her. She looked older in the headshot and her smile looked fake, but it was her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diego, come on! Michael’s gonna be the coolest kid on the block and you know it!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Michael is enraptured by her bright smile and confident demeanor. That was his sister? She was so cool! </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mommy?” Little seven year old Michael asked, unaware of the tears shining in her eyes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why isn’t Ava with us now?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jillian crushed the remote in her bare hands, anger radiating out every pore. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She was taken. Taken by him.” She muttered darkly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“By who?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jillian’s bloodshot eyes met her son’s, and for a second didn’t recognize him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“By that fucking bastard…” She suddenly realized what she was saying to her young child, and quickly changed tactics. “Nobody sweetheart. Nobody. She’s just. Gone.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had sat there, stewing, before taking the videos and locking them in the attic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Michael would find them again at age nine, spending every night trying his best to get to know his long lost sister. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now he stood besides his broken mother, a smile wide on his face as he realized that she wasn’t gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His sister was alive and well and famous! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That fucker</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Jillian screamed, throwing the remote and cracking the screen with its force. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give me back my daughter!” She screamed until her voice was hoarse, body shaking as her son held her, ignorant of the whole story as his mother broke apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to get her back.” She promised, taking Michael’s face in her hands. “I’m going to get Ava back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Michael nodded solemnly at that. “I believe you mommy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sat there for what seemed like hours until Jillian put Michael to bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now she sat in front of her shattered television, plotting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She picked up her phone from the coffee table, dialing a number and sat. Waiting for someone to pick up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Areala. I need your help.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Francesco Duretti paced his office, anxious about the next day of shooting. There was an important level of drama missing, and he knew ratings would drop if nothing exciting happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crimson was a viable candidate for mayhem, he just had to get that Silva girl more confrontational. Maybe Crimson could insult her newfound gang of misfits and get Silva pissed. Yes, yes, that was good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ava Silva was a fine piece of ass and would serve as an incredible Bachelorette if things fell through with their Bachelor. She was a good investment to make, one that Duretti was more than willing to cash in on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His musings were cut short as his door was kicked open violently, sending splinters flying everywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?!” Duretti screamed as a figure entered his office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What are you doing here--” He was cut off by a singular gunshot through his head, silencer barely making a noise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The large man dropped like a sack of potatoes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The attacker looked over the carnage with disgust, knowing he was the one that had to clean up this mess. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Father Vincent wasn’t fond of messes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He liked things clean cut and organized. Duretti was none of these things, which sparked the tiniest bit of rage in his heart, something he tamed with a single crack of his knuckles. Emotion was weakness and weakness was exploitable. Apathy was the only way he made his living, so continue living he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled out his burner phone, trapping it between his ear and shoulder as it dialed and put on a fresh pair of leather gloves. No evidence was to be left behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s done.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat there in the dim light, blood pooling at his feet as he gained further instruction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As you wish.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snapped the phone closed and began to clean up his mess. He was often scorned for his messy executions, but there was pleasure to be found in the spilling of blood. The cleaning afterwards was in no way pleasurable, a good way to cow his bloodlust for more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He began to scrub at the carpet after depositing the body in his trunk, tears mingling with bleach as he rubbed his knuckles raw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was a monster, a demon, of a man. His punishment awaits him below and he welcomes the future of toiling in fire and brimstone. It’s what he deserved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he continued to scrub.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whaaaat??! Vincent is a Bad Guy?? who'd a thunk it</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know next to nothing about what happens behind the scenes on the bachelor so this'll be fun. Everything I've learned is from a random supergirl fanfic that I hope updates soon...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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